Becoming
by AnonymousWriter719
Summary: After learning of the Prophesy and Dumbledore's betrayal, Harry is accidentally sent back in time, where he meets none other than Tom Riddle. He decides to take charge of his life and his future, no matter the price. But will he go too far? Slash Tom/Harry, Dark!Harry, Dumbledore-bashing.


**This is just an idea that's been nagging at me. I don't know whether I will continue this or not, so I wanted to post the first chapter and see if I should bother. Let me know what you think. All constructive criticism is welcome.**

Chapter 1

He stood, completely immobile, in front of the man he had once looked up to as his mentor. Dumbledore was sitting at his desk, hands clasped and eyes twinkling behind half-moon spectacles as he imparted Harry's death sentence. The Prophecy.

He knew without a doubt that he wasn't capable of defeating Voldemort. He had no self-delusions. Hermione was the smart one; he was the one who charged into battle and relied on his mile-wide streak of luck to get him through alive. Even Ron had more of a head for strategy than he did, although the redhead's temper often impeded his ability to be levelheaded enough to use these skills to his advantage. No, Harry knew instantly that he was going to die. Not all the luck in the world would help him defeat the most powerful Dark Lord in wizarding history.

As a student, Tom Riddle had already been a force to be reckoned with. Brilliant, charismatic, and ruthless, he made a terrifying enemy. Now, fifty years later, the man was feared by all and nearly invincible. He had even found a way to conquer death, resurrecting himself using Harry's blood just the year before. He was no longer just a terrifying enemy. Rather, he was now an undefeatable one. The only thing Harry had, according to Dumbledore, was his ability to love. He didn't see how much good that would do when he, a fifteen-year-old, was facing off with Voldemort. _Maybe I'll forgive him, and he'll be so taken aback by magnanimity that he'll just keel over and die right in front of me_, he thought wryly.

He had long since stopped listening to Dumbledore's words. While he was sure they were meant to be reassuring, he was in no mood to be coddled. In fact, it was only through sheer stubbornness that he was keeping his magic under control. His emotions were already volatile after what happened to Sirius… And now to learn that Sirius had died for nothing, that he was going to die regardless of how many others laid down their lives for him… It was too much.

He could barely bring himself to look at the Headmaster. Just thinking of all of the wasted time, of all of the lies and deceit, of the old man's endless manipulations, was enough to shake what little control he had left. Why couldn't Dumbledore have told him this years ago, when he was eleven and still had time to train? Or, better yet, why hadn't Dumbledore let him be raised as a wizard, so that he could have spent his entire life preparing to battle Voldemort? Instead, the man engineered countless tests of his ability to survive against all odds, placing both him and his friends in danger as a result.

Harry wasn't stupid; why would Nicholas Flamel give Dumbledore his priceless philosopher's stone, the only thing keeping him alive, when it had already been kept safe for hundreds of years outside of Hogwarts? Add to this the fact that the protections the Headmaster placed around it were easily defeated by first-years and the old man's motives were made more transparent than ever. He had been trying to lure Voldemort out into the open and thus encourage Harry to rise up against the threat. Molding him to respond to dangerous situations with brash actions, forging him into a hero.

The same was true of second year, with Ginny, the Basilisk, Tom Riddle… If Hermione had managed to figure it out just by looking through the books in the school library, how had Dubledore, the supposed most powerful wizard since Merlin, failed to solve the mystery and resolve the problem beforehand? No, it was yet another test, another plot, and a clichéd one at that. Harry the Brave saves the damsel in distress, defeats the baddie and they all live happily ever after. Until, that is, the old coot pulls his strings, twinkles his eyes, and creates yet another mess for Harry to barge in and clean up.

Every single year a situation that Harry absolutely had to involve himself in arose, with each year becoming more and more dangerous. And now, Sirius was dead. Mr. Weasley had almost died. Lucius Malfoy had been imprisoned and the ferret hated him more than ever. He couldn't take it anymore. He was done being a pawn, be it Dumbledore's or Fate's. Fuck Destiny and her prophesy. He was done with all of them.

He would defeat Voldemort solely for revenge's sake. The man had killed his parents, after all, and his Death Eaters had killed Sirius. He owed it to his family to avenge their deaths. But he would do it his way. Without an backwards glance, Harry abruptly turned on his heel and stormed out of Dumbledore's office and down the spiral staircase.

He had to go to the Room of Requirement and start training. He had a snowball's chance in hell of defeating Voldemort with his pitiful knowledge of spells and curses. The only way he stood a chance was if he set up a practice room and began thinking of a strategy immediately. Harry wondered briefly how he would continue training over the summer, not wanting another fiasco with the Ministry over underage use of magic.

"Not to mention Vernon would have an apoplexy if he caught me," Harry mused aloud. "They already treat me worse than a house elf. No need to fuck things up any further." That's when the solution struck him. House elves. He had inherited Grimmauld Place according to Sirius' will, and he knew that Kreacher was now obligated to obey him. He could just stay at Number Twelve over the summer. The wards would prevent anyone from detecting his use of magic, and hopefully he could research shadier spells in the Black Library. He might even be able to find a way to take control of the house's wards to Dumbledore to stop the coot from meddling in his affairs again.

With a plan in mind, he headed towards the Room with new determination, approaching the blank stretch of wall and beginning to pace. _I need a place that will help me defeat Voldemort, _he instructed. The door appeared after a moment and he grasped the handle without hesitating, already mentally cataloguing the different things he wanted to begin studying before leaving Hogwarts in a few days' time.

Yet as he walked through the doorway, there was a flash of light, a distinct tug behind his navel, and then abrupt darkness.

**Remember to review and give me your feedback. Thanks for reading.**


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